


Baking With The Malfoys

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Darkness Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-09
Updated: 2005-10-09
Packaged: 2018-10-26 07:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Lucius can't resist a challenge





	Baking With The Malfoys

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Lucius, for Merlin's sake, what do you think you're doing?" 

Lucius Malfoy looked up from his notes, his eyes moving over his beautiful wife as she entered the kitchen. He informed her loftily, "I am making a cake." 

"Cake?" Narcissa repeated with an arched brow, surveying the mess that was covering the counter before looking back at her husband of twenty-seven years. She had not been aware that he knew there was a kitchen, much less where it was located. She asked, "Why?" 

"Because I can do anything those bloody Muggles can do," he smiled smugly. 

"Lucius, this isn't about that silly debate you were having with Hermione last week, is it?" Narcissa groaned, remembering all too vividly their dinner at Draco's the previous weekend, Lucius getting into a verbal discussion with their daughter-in-law, a Muggleborn, about wizards and Muggles. She had not paid their debate much attention, knowing that her husband enjoyed a bit of verbal sparring with Hermione and Draco and that the children seemed to have fun arguing amongst themselves or against Lucius. She had heard, however, Lucius declare that a wizard could do anything an average Muggle could do even without the benefit of magic. Hermione had laughed and declared that she sincerely doubted he could even make a cake without using magic. 

"It was not a silly debate, woman," Lucius glared, "that foolish witch challenged me!" 

"Woman?" Narcissa's eyes narrowed, "Besides, you like that foolish witch and have said repeatedly that she is good for our son." 

"Yes, well, I'll like her just fine after she has to admit that I can make a cake with my own two hands and no magic!" Lucius said as he went back to the recipe he had procured from his daughter-in-law the previous day. He studied it and looked at the bowl, making a face, "Does this look right to you?" 

"How would I know?" Narcissa asked as she sighed and moved beside him. Poor man had no idea what he was doing, that was obvious from the mess he had made. She smiled slightly as she saw the white powder on his handsome face and took a moment to appreciate his disheveled appearance. 

"I know that I am quite attractive and it takes a lot of control for you to not simply push me against the counter and kiss me, but I would like to get this bloody cake made before Draco and Hermione arrive for dinner," Lucius drawled lazily, winking at his wife before showing her the recipe. 

"I was not ogling you," Narcissa informed him sweetly, "you have white powder on your face." 

"It's called flour, darling," Lucius explained, his hand automatically moving to dust the flour form his face. "It would seem that it is used in quite a bit of the foods we enjoy." 

"I wouldn't know," Narcissa said snottily, reminding him that she was not someone used to preparing her own food. After all, that was what house elves were for. She knew there was a kitchen at the Manor, had been there a few times while walking through the house, but she had never actually cooked anything herself. Surely it wouldn't be that difficult. After all, Muggles did it all the time. 

 

"It is very much like a potion," Lucius pointed at the recipe, "a mixture of ingredients that need to be put together. I excel at Potions but something does not look quite right. It's the cake that Hermione always makes for us, my favorite with the chocolate and peanut butter. This looks more like a potions disaster than that delicious cake." 

"Have you tried tasting it?" Narcissa queried, "perhaps it tastes better than it looks." 

"I did," he cringed, "it is awful. I don't understand what I've not done correctly. Everything is in there and I followed the instructions precisely. I transfigured the chair into that oven machine and let it set in there for twenty minutes as specified but it still looks disgusting." 

"What is this number?" Narcissa pointed at a number with her fingernail. 

"I believe Hermione said that is the temperature that the cake becomes while in that oven machine," Lucius decided, "though she was obviously mistaken because it was the exact same temperature coming out as it was going in." 

Narcissa picked up a spoon and stirred the contents of the pain, a thoughtful look in her eyes as she wondered how they were to get this liquid to become the moist cake that Hermione often made. She made a face when she saw that flour powder on her shirt, deciding that Lucius was definitely going to make this up to her. Not only was she in the kitchen, but she was actually cooking because of him. Suddenly remembering a long forgotten potions lesson, she set the spoon down and moved to the strange oven machine. Her blue eyes looked it over and she smiled as she sad, "Ah ha!" 

"What?" Lucius moved behind her, "Narcissa, what have you figured out?" 

"Darling, this oven contraption provides the heat for the potion. I mean, the cake mixture. It's like that potion we learned in seventh year, the one that was heated until it became solid? This oven machine must provide the heat to turn this mess until the cake!" she finished with a proud smile. "See? There are numbers here so I assume we must use this knob." 

"I married a brilliant witch," Lucius smiled happily as he kissed her check, watching her turn the oven machine to the correct temperature. He reached for the pan and put it on the shelf inside the oven machine. Peering inside, he noted, "It's getting warmer." 

"Yes, it is," Narcissa smiled naughtily as she rubbed against him, her hand linger on his lower stomach as she purred, "How long did you say this cake must cook?" 

"Twenty minutes," Lucius leered as he pulled her against him. 

"Not nearly long enough," Narcissa sighed sadly, her blue eyes lit with mischief as she moved against him, "but I suppose we could have a bit of fun. After all, I've never shagged you in the kitchen." 

"Well, we really must fix that," Lucius grinned as he moved her against the counter, his mouth on hers and all thoughts of Muggle baking fleeing their minds.


End file.
